Tuesday, July 13, 2004

Ass Cleavage

I'm not really a morning person. And by "really", I mean that I hate them with a passion. If it were up to me, my day would start 3 or 4 hours after the sun rises and would end 5 or 6 hours after it sets. The sheer thought of waking up before the sun comes up fills me with a sense of dread. Strangely when I have to deal with waking up early in the morning, I combat it by staying up very late the night before. I tend to stay up too late as it is, but of course it's amplified when I have to wake up three or four hours after going to bed.

I used to rationalize my staying up late by saying, "I do my best thinking at night." This excuse, by all accounts, is complete and utter bullshit, seeing as how I have to do very little thinking in my chosen activities at that point in the, by most people's definition, morning. I usually stay up watching a movie or playing a game, neither of which require a great deal of brain activity. More often than not it's just a test of if I can keep my eyes open or if I can press a button fast enough, so it's not like I'm up trying to create drugs to cure cancer, typically I'm just swearing under my breath because my character was just killed by a Vahzilok.

So, I think we've established that mornings are not great for me. Today I woke from bed, quite bleary eyed, and hopped in the shower. I only had one errand to run before work and although it was a short one, it would take me nearly an hour to get there, and from there it would take me another hour to get to work.

As I was driving down the interstate, I noticed the flashing lights from a police car in the distance and, of course, slowed down about 5 miles an hour and began to stare. I really try not to do this when I see something on the side of the road but being a human being, somewhere deep down, I am endlessly curious.

When I got a bit closer to the car I noticed that it was clearly a flat tire that was the source of the problem, as I saw the driver and the state trooper working on the left front wheel well of the car. It was the bending over, that the driver was doing, that became the source of an awful moment that I'm not soon to forget.

This was obviously a young man that was (insert trendy phrase of the day. Hip to, down with tha', etc.) clothing trends of the day. If I had to guess, he was about 20 to 25 years old judging by his dress. The first thing that I noticed about his attire was that he was wearing a "do-rag."

I've never understood why young white kids feel the need to wear something like that. I wear one when I'm exercising, but I have valid reasons to do so. I'm balding and anything that covers how bad my rapidly evaporating hair looks when I'm sweating is a very good thing. Also, it stops the sweat from streaming into my eyes.

Both of those are valid reasons, in my opinion. But I fail to see the reason to wear one when you're cruising around at six in the morning. Unless he's a member of the Cheesehead Crips, which I sincerely doubt, (the secret handshake involves a milking gesture that's very difficult to mime) he's going to get mocked by me. Not in person by any means because I'm sure he would kick my ass two ways to Tuesday, but here.... most definitely.

After noticing his choice of cranial accessories, I realized that that was not nearly his most egregious clothing issue. He, like many other kids his age, had chosen to wear pants where the waist size was at least three or four sizes bigger than he needed to be wearing, and as a result of this (deep sigh) I was forced to witness what had to be the worst display of plumber's crack that I've seen in my 30 years on this earth. Given another 5 to 10 seconds his pants would have just fallen off on their own and the whole group of early morning commuters would have been treated to a mooning by a person standing right next to a police officer.

My first reaction was to turn away to avert my eyes from having to gaze upon it any further. Thankfully, I was driving on the interstate and at seventy plus miles per hour, the whole incident only took a few seconds, but it did get me to thinking.

Rubbernecking is a very large issue with just about every accident, and there never seems to be a way to stop it. I now have THE solution to this. Each time there is an accident on a major thoroughfare, a minimum of two people will need to be stationed on either side of the road. One should stand near the accident, displaying their ass cleavage as to cause any passerby to avert their gaze. Another person should be stationed on the other side of the road, in the exact same posture, so that any person that jerks their head away from the sight of the first display of crack would be forced to stare straight ahead as to avoid seeing another "hairy" display on the roadside.

I think the whole process could be scaled to the size of the accident.